Dylmas/Newtmas One-Shots

Dylmas - Lost Boy

HAPPY NEWT DAY EVERYONE!!! ❤

Argh I'm so excited for this One-Shot! Fingers crossed it turns out good :)

Based On: Lost Boy by Ruth B

Warning - This is an AU where the people involved are out-of-character (not personality wise) so if you don't like don't read.

Side Note: It might be worth noting that the boys are both teenagers in this AU (obviously with the same age gap between the two) yet I've pictured them looking as they do now(ish).

3rd Person POV

The wind ran through his golden locks, gently brushing his face as he travelled through the late summer's night. The soft glow of the streetlights barely reached the blueish-black sky, disappearing against the bright stars. One star in particular was shining brighter than all the rest, high up in the night's sky, surrounded by smaller stars.

House after house shot by, beige coloured bricks blurring into one as the boy flew past. His body manoeuvred itself through the skies with skill, flawlessly turning corners and skimming cars that lay below him. He laughed, his hair being pushed back with the sudden gust of wind as he twirled his body in mid-air without hesitation - fully trusting his body's capabilities.

As he soared above the familiar town, he heard a voice. It was soft and the boy stopped, listening intently as he floated above a quiet street. Now that the boy had stopped moving he could hear the voice clearer, and he realised that the person was not speaking nor singing - no, they were in fact crying. Muffled cries as though the person was ashamed.

The boy spun in a slow circle, using the wind to decipher where the cries were coming from. He followed the correct direction, coming across a small window with a soft, yellow glow emerging from the room connected. Stopping, the blonde boy turned towards the little window, pressing his hands against the glass as he peered inside.

There, he found a young boy (he didn't look much older than himself) sat on a bed, a pillow held to his face. The cries were more desperate now, and as the boy watched, he could see the younger boy's body shaking. He didn't know what it was, but something about the boy told him to stay.

Knowing that he couldn't do anything to help, or at least he didn't think that he could, the boy carefully lowered himself onto the small window ledge, resting his back against the brick wall and bringing his knees up to his chest. He sat there for a while - he wasn't sure how long exactly - quietly watching the boy through the grimy window.

Suddenly, the boy lifts his head, his brown eyes locking onto the boy sat outside, the pillow dropping to the floor below. The older boy observed the younger - he was gorgeous - before realising that he had been spotted. In a panic, he flew up, his head crashing into the bricks above him. He tried to still himself, his hand rubbing his head where he was sure a bump would appear the next day. Still attempting to escape the younger boy's gaze, the boy spun around preparing to fly off into the night. However, he misjudged the size of the ledge, his thin body falling off the edge. He reached out, his hands gripping tightly onto the ledge where he was just sat, taking a deep breath before hauling himself back up.

As he brings himself back up to the window, the boy notices that the other was now stood directly opposite him with the pillow once again held tightly in his grasp. They held eye contact, and the boy contemplated flying off again when he was stopped by the other slowly opening the window latch.

Without another glance, the younger boy turned around, walking back to sit on his bed, his brown hair flopping over his eyes. The older boy stared at the latch for a minute, glancing back to the beautiful boy sat only a metre away. Closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, he pushed against the cold glass, the window creaking open just enough to allow him through.